The Crystaline Cocoon
by Reverend Godless
Summary: A story based off of the White Wolf Studios Role playing games. More specifically Mage: The Ascension, & Vampire: the Masquerade. Sophia is a sleeper, Roland is a master, and dangerous liasons bring Sophia into the shadows where any but reality reigns.
1. Chapter 1

**Untitled**

**Chapter One**

Roland sighed as he surveyed the cityscape that laid before him. The Strip stretched into the night. A neon avatarian serpent of greed and broken dreams, cascading it's venomous lure into the very heart of the world. The strange darkness embracing the rest of the City of Sin filled the expanse of the valley. A pit of welfare and emptiness. The truth hidden from the tourists and the earth.

But this was the city he called home, and fled from. The Illusion, the Reality, it's a mage's playground. A hermetic uses his magic on stage and the Illusion becomes reality. The Producer makes a show, and lo, the reality becomes Illusion.

He looked to the sky, and saluted the piercing light shooting up from atop the Modern Pyramid into the outer reaches of space and smiled. "Welcome home, " He murmured to himself. He sat at the edge of the roof he found as his sanctuary, dangling his feet over the sidewalk ten of floors down. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

From then till sunrise, Roland watched the city of perpetual twilight continue on. Every pedestrian, tourist and car was watched. And as the sun rose up into the sky, The enigmatic Mage stood, walked to the exit, and joined the Masses, with a smile, and with a hope for redemption, and a hope for the future, unforeseen so far. " Shame, this never seems to last..."

On the other side of the city, far from the strip, far from the casinos, She awoke, dreading the day, as usual, pulling the comforter around her like a net of security, She already banished Helios from her room with thick, black material duct taped to the dirty windows. The day wouldn't release her back to slumber, however, and so, she, as a newly released animal in the wild, slowly inched away from her nightly domicile. The thought of returning always present, she pulls random cloths up off the floor, draping them over her naked form. a skirt...she hopes, found it's way to her hips, it's wrinkled silk dancing, sending shocks of pleasure through it's embrace. a vest covered her bosom, barely. She lifted her hair out from under the collar, and found the essentials of facing the noonday... Sunglasses and cigarettes, both in their common place next to her bed.

She drifts to the door, slipping her eyes behind the thick darkened lenses, and allowing a single smoke to rest between her lips, igniting from some unseen lighter, and opens the door to the tomb that is her room. As light invades her sight, she cringes softly, but it passes as quickly as it came, and she stands, to the world, hair, red and flowing, barely free, but never contained, it's curls allowing nothing but madness and chaos. and as she walks, it bounces easily behind her head. The walk she paced herself with was quick, now that the day was, unfortunately begun. The call for sustenance beyond nicotine called to her sullenly.She walked through the cluttered hall, and entered the living room, where, of course, most of the furniture and the inhabitants of her domicile laid, sleeping, from last night's spectacle. bottles laid empty, and The feint smell of vomit and urine crept from the bathroom, and the heavy musk of people surrounded the cacophony of arms legs and torsos that she faced.

With a sigh she took a drag from her cigarette, exhaling the fumes from her lungs, adding to the detestable mess, and walked into the kitchen. she pushed a few stale pizza crusts back into their boxes and threw them to the floor. Moans of disapproval rose from the living room, but if she noticed she didn't care. Reaching into the fridge she pulled out the milk, and after smelling it, deemed it safe for consumption. With a reach, a box of Count Chocula was hers. Randy hated her cereals, but that was his problem, he left... A bowl was absent, so to suffice she pulled out the coffee pot from it's resting place, and looking for floating mold, poured it full of her cereal and milk. content and happy, she ashed in the sink and left the poor excuse of a kitchen to plunge into the futile pursuit for the true essence of escape; Her car keys.

She glanced about the knot of former humanity on her floor and couches, desperate for the freedom of the vehicle resting in slumber outside in the parking lot. and there, next to the phone, laid her Grail. Cautiously, she inched forward, performing acts of grace, and fluidity which belayed a sense of grace which screamed tyranny against her desires of slumber. Yet, she arched her back over, leaning with a leg extended in perfect ballerina-esque shame over the mess, the people and the dreaded crashers snatching the keys up as the venus flytrap would it's meal and fled the disaster, finally content as she threw her bag over her shoulder. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Maybe I'll go to class today." another drag off the cigarette, then it was airborne, half smoked, into the trees over the railing as she shuffled quickly, barefoot, down to the earth below.

" Would you like more Coffee sir?" the waitress hovered over the counter in front of Roland, uncaring and tired, her face a little sunbaked and her form heavy with years of bad, greasy diner food. Roland looked up at her from over his Lennon shades and with a wolfish grin simply winks, " no ma'am. Think I'm set for now, but please, feel free to check on me in a little bit, I might need to order something to munch on. " the light, friendly words seems to sour the waitress' mood further. A slight set off by the fathomless hate born for anyone who could possibly be cheerful at three in the morning. " Whatever you say pal... " she shuffled off for the smoking section, long since bare of humanity, pulling out an old, crumpled pack of smokes from her apron, she falls into the booth with a grunt as the cook in the window shakes his head, wiping down the delivery window with a smile.

Roland continues to watch the clock, patient, as if he knows every tick of the second hand was somehow entertaining. A wistful sigh escapes from his chest, and he pulls out a letter from his pocket he looks over the back of it intently, as if there as some unseen writing on it before turning the ink to his face for one more quick read through. before putting it back into the pocket of his white sports coat. He stands and walks for the door, leaving behind a single bill note, far more than the stale coffee was worth, but the smallest bill he had. _ fuck it, _he thought, as the door swung shut behind him, _next time I come in, maybe she'll smile._

_"_ Nice of you to join us, Miss Conner, I trust you have been keeping up on your studies independently..." the old graybeard looked over thin, but substantial reading glasses as Sophia made her way into the lecture hall. She nodded politely to the professor as se took her seat against the back wall, the classroom still bare, waiting for minds eager to ignore the lessons to be uttered for the day. " Miss Conner, I find your candor today to be less than approving, what a shocker. You're potential as a linguist is limitless, I don't see why you won't embrace your obvious talents. Could you enlighten me?" the old man stood, his very posture stern, matching the tenor in which he spoke.

Sophia rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and slumped into the chair, " I don't know, could be that I see little reason to keep working on a language that is never going to be any use to me. Sounded cool when I first heard about it, but really? " She shrugged, her attitude rung from the rafters with contempt. " Pointless."

Professor Brinkman nodded and grinned, " I do see your point, miss Connor, but, I fail to see why you would keep showing up , when dropping this class is just as easy. In any event, sanskrit might prove useful one day. You never know."

The doors opened and a few more students walked in, taking eats dispersed throughout the room, and Prof. Brinkman returned to the front of the class and started writing out the day's lecture on the whitewall, diagrams of words and their meanings, their pronunciation in the phonic code used by Linguist and Communications majors. The other students quickly began to copy it all down, Sophia simply yawned and watched the words fall into her mind. " I should have stayed in bed" She grumbled.

The class wore on and on, a never ending trial of patience and the Starbucks coffee proliferated through the systems of the students. The professor continued. and Sophia simply listened, her eyes half open, slumped into the chair, staring at the ceiling, rolling the words over in her mouth until, finally, the old grey beard said the fateful phrase. " Alright class, that's all for today.."

Just as quickly as they entered the classroom, the rest of the students left, leaving Sophia alone again with the teacher, who packed his briefcase with his own notes, only casually paying her notice of existence. She watched and looked over the board, going over anything making sure she made it through the entire lecture without drifting to sleep. Then, standing she made her way for the door.

"Good afternoon, Miss O'Conner...Until next time?" She looked briefly before she opened the door, and replied dejectedly, " Yeah, next time..." She walked out of the room, into the hall, out of the building, past the faceless herd of kids like her, doing what's expected of them. She felt out of place as she allowed the masses drift by as she held her bag closer for security.

She never noticed until this moment, but they all looked alike. the guys came in three flavors. There were the Gomers, with the greasy black hair, overdone black dress and pathetic attempt to be drearily creepy. it mostly endeared pity... Then the Jocks... Built large, always wearing their team's colors and always bullying someone, and hitting on some chick. They had short hair, and tried to be impressive, after all, they are the sport teams of tomorrow.. After that there are the geeks. they keep to themselves, usually have a moderate spark of individuality, as long as it was the polar opposite of the latest fashion. They are the ones that would come wearing their little garb for the renn faire, or walk around playing their fantasy games in public. always getting good grades, the laughing stock for the rest of the clowns. She didn't want to know where she fit into their little cliques. She only wanted to get out, away, back to her home with it's debauchery and it's sanity.

That night she lay awake her thoughts plaguing her while she dreamed far deeper than she should. her dreams took her to another time, one of primality. A beat pulled her into the fog of imaginary revels where she danced with the Gods themselves. Odin and Chronos, Athena, Freda, saints and martyrs, they all acted in tune with this beat, their servants casting their inhibitions into the night's revelry.

She stopped before the Lord of the Gallows as he beckoned her. He turned, beckoning a voluptuous woman to his side. and with his hunting knife he cut away the skirt and blouse. the woman welcomed the act, and Sonya was left in shock, watching the act curiously. Odin slid the knife away and spoke in his tongue, yet it fell into her heart with understanding. " The Power dwells in us all. Trapped by the imperfect reflection of the flesh..." Sonya nodded, her eyes fixed on the woman, as Odin pulled off a heavy gauntlet, revealing the sharp beastly talons on the ends of his fingers, he drew on across the collar bone, behind it, a razor's edge line of blood swelled the God drew his nil across the other collar bone with the same effect connecting the wounds above the sternum, above the gentle inward curve of his servant's milky breasts. " One must know the language of release, the letters of Power to release it unto the world." the voice reverberated into the very soul and Sonya grabbed her chest, still surprised, wondering why she couldn't wake up form this strange vision.

"What are the letters?" Sonya heard her own voice. Was it her that uttered them? Was it her vocalizing such a question? he looked about and saw herself. No, not herself, but a twisted counterpart, one free of conditions of propriety and convention. Hair wildly wrapped abut her face atop a naked visage of freedom. Odin looked at Her and started to cut in with his nails, the servant lifted her head and stood still, each touch seemingly radiating pleasure, not the harm seen. The cuts formed patterns in the flesh, bloody countenances of power, they radiated with it. the blood itself began to trickle down the woman's perfectly formed curves, changing direction time and time again, revealing the faint near invisible scars of past treatments with these rites. down each arm he worked his claws through her skin. making symmetrical stripes of runic symbols, on her knuckles, the fingertips dripped blood by the time he finished, on her breasts he carved as well, and the woman moaned lustily and her vitae gathered on her hardened nipples before falling to the floor with a slight, dull spatter. on her belly, he carved through a feint line of blood, taking the cut long and slender, filling the wound staff with markings of the Runes. soon her body was covered in these small incisions. the woman nearly glowed in the glistening wetness of the sticky blood, the beat of the world around her flowing outward into the terrain. Spilt from Odin's holy vessel.

"As it was, as it will be..."Odin spoke casually into the soul, "Is it ready to awaken?"

His attention turned looking into Sonya's own vision's eye. The bloodied woman walked for it as well, embracing her, the warm blood's feel shocked her senses back to the darkness of the room as she bolted awake. She sat up with a start, covered in a cold sweat, breathing hard and labored she wrapped her blanket tightly around her body and shivered. Frightened, but not because of the dream, rather, her fear emanated from the desire she felt. The lust for that bloodied woman. Ashamed, by it she laid back down. and lay there awake until her alarm finally, after centuries of emptiness...

**---------------------------------------**

The alarm sounded, Roland rolled over and slammed the beast back to silence, and drug the comforter over his head, swimming still from a night's debauchery. His thoughts drifted to the dreams of the night. Visions of darkness, visions of spiders, blood and evil. _Could the city be whispering to me? _ He banished the fancy away. Spirits usually left him alone, seeing him as nothing but an intruder. Still, strange he dreams now after so long sleeping in quiet darkness. _ Could the city be whispering? _ he slowly sat up, disturbing the previous night's focal point, a gentle girl with light sandy brown hair with twisted locks. he admired her naked form for a moment. the gentle curve of her neckline. the firmness of her breasts. the soft firmness of her midsection. Enraptured by the beauty of her innocent slumber, he couldn't help but smile.

He stood and walked into the bathroom of his hotel room, the carpet, so soft under his heightened sense of touch, sent waves of pleasure through him, and he prolonged his journey, caressing the carpet with his toes, eyes only half opened, drunkenly. the feeling came into his fingers, a slow traveling electricity. He embraced it's comforting awakening as the colors of the room came into sharp inhuman focus about him. The senses reached out, feeling his surroundings, taking it all in. Only a moment and the world was in him. The smell of lavender and alcohol, sex and shampoo. He heard the heartbeat of the youth in his bed and pulled back. _not too far old man. _ he heeded his own thoughts and floated onto the linoleum and shuddered at it's cool, hard texture- the startling contrast strattled into his bones, a thrill he enjoyed with a light, soft chuckle. The face he looked at in the mirror winked at him and the water began to steam up the glass. _already turned it on? _He turned and twisted the faucet on the tub turning to the clear mirror he tussled his hair. _ too early for that Roland... Control yourself, there'll be plenty of that later. _ the mental scolding brought him away from the time warp and the mirror cleared, awaiting the steam that he knew would come. but in the mirror wasn't Roland. But a woman he had never seen before, he turned and looked at the bed, the girl rolled over. _ So, you're gonna take me to her then, are you?_

Roland walked into the bath and turned the shower on, letting the water cleanse him with it's heat and purity as the Mind wandered through the evening. visions of the club surrounded, the heavy beat of the music tore through him again, faces of pretenders and revelers passing by in parade, bodies twisting and melting together, infused with over priced drinks, Women losing inhibitions and men touching that divine under the DJ's watchful guidance. C_lubwerker, that makes sense, was a good party. _ The girl walked towards him, her hips gravitating unabashed for him, wearing clothes that would have been a crime to waste on anyone else, Roland felt her knowing this, and so she did. Her name is.. ." Jessica" her voice spoke in echoes surrounding him has the soap worked it's lather on his stomach. _Care to dance the night away? _ " Of course" the echo ripped through him again, marvelously. a new set of hands set to washing his back, the visions blended with reality. They danced as lovers, grinding on each other. Both building desire the woman had never yet known _ -would never know again- _admittedly. Then, the club was emptying, she came with him without a word, Destiny stirred, and they fell into bed, Roland kissed her soft, hungry lips, which parted inviting his tongue entrance as his hands swam along her spine, sending waves of desire through her. They wrestled as one, as she tore off his shirt, and he her dress. They fell into each other in harmony _ Dances of Shatki and Shatka, my dear. _ he began washing her, nervous at his touch. the dreams of yesterday making ways for the moments around them now. in no time, and in moments of eternity, the pains, the headaches were washed away with the communion of their souls. " I have school this morning.. " _I know, and I'll take you home._

They cleaned and dried each other, then headed through the hall of the hotel into the elevator, the boring over processed sounds of a once great song reduced to little more than background dribble was the only sound as they waited in silence for the elevator to descend. Roland pulled his mane of near black hair back behind his head, binding it there with a strap of leather from his pocket before he smoothed out the raw linen of his buttoned shirt. The girl swayed contently this way and that, a small grin on her face. and leaned up to kiss Roland on the cheek as the door opened. Roland took her by the hand and lead her through the casino and the acrid smell of stale cigarettes and broken dreams to the parking garage.

" I know this might sound weird and corny, but I have never met anyone like you, Roland." Jessica softly admonished, to a grin from Roland's pale face as he stopped at a large cruiser of a motorcycle. " Yeah, I get that a lot." he handed her a spare helmet from an old beat up leather saddlebag, and donned his own, then got on the bike. allowing it's engine to awaken from it's slumber with a roar of power. With a squeal Jessica hopped on the back and melted into Roland's back becoming inseparable as he pulled out of the garage and onto Las Vegas Boulevard, onto the highway, and out into the West. The road peeled behind them, the wind rushed through their hair and around their bodies, the world seemed to vanish in that freedom, in that oneness. Jessica hoped it would never end, but all too soon Roland found the exit he was looking for and took it, slowing down the monster they rode on around the turn into the depths of humanity's Final Resting Place.

It wasn't the worst area, Jessica knew that, but it sure as hell wasn't the best, and was falling from favor with each passing day. The roads were cracked and bore the tarred scars of years upon years of mass transit on their marred surfaces. The trees, old and twisted, were only saplings when they were planted there by the generations past, hoping to capture the splendors of their native cities of Boston, or Charleston, or New York or a plethora of other large and wet cities. Cottonwoods, Mulberries, Olives. and of course, Palm trees. Beautiful, once. Now, merely blotted and burnt from the desert's unforgiving sun, their leaves curled and hardened, the bark dry, unforgiving, and their roots searching evermore for more and more of that vital water the desert is only sprinkled with. The colors of stucco, ever present in the Valley, are dry, pale tans and grays, even those are bleached by the abominable sun blazing down from the Hellish deep blue above.

Roland deftly maneuvered the bike through the surface streets, coming to rest inside a group of pale gray-blue apartments with bleached blue roof tiles. The covered parking was only strips of crinkled metal on support beams covered in thick chipped paint. The engine halted, and only the sounds of the freeway could be heard. He looked through the chain-ink fence and admired the contrast between these old apartments, with their cement stairs with rusted handrails, and unkempt appearance and the lutheran church. It's grounds were well maintained, the parking lot newly paved, it's walls built of brick, it stood as a strange vision of cleanliness in a sea of architectural martyrdom.

"You coming?" Jessica asked, playfully taking Roland's hand and pulling him into the complex through the sunburned grass. " Alright, alright!" Roland replied, over-exasperated in jest as he allowed himself to be dragged to her apartment. " so? What do you think of the neighborhood?" Jessica inquired, which was replied to without haste, " It has history, doesn't it?"

" Oh yes, it does. Not that I was a part of any of it, but, I guess everything has a story doesn't it?" She fished through her little black patent leather handbag for her keys as she lead Roland to a door with tarnished numbers diagonally set on it. Within moments they were standing inside. The place was sparsely furnished, only a simple, black futon with a metal frame and a thinly stuffed mattress resting in it's clutches. The table was old, probably from some neighborhood thrift store. It's wooden varnish was cracked and marred from years of abuse from cold, sweating glasses and mugs of hot beverages. the carpet was clean, but matted down, definitely in need of a steam cleaning. the pale, eggshell white walls were bare, save for a Led Zeppelin concert poster recreated for nostalgia, and a family picture showing, whom Roland could only assume to be, her parents and little brother. He looked at their faces, empty, smiling, but forced. wearing matching sweaters for the christmas photo...

" That's my family. They're divorced now. Dad's in prison for kid porn and Mom's in rehab." her tenor fell and mood hollowed for a moment. Roland raised an eyebrow but didn't look away from the photo. " It happens, unfortunately." Was all he could muster. " Yeah," she replied, " Dad was always an O.K. guy, you know? Don't know what happened to him. He never touched me or my little brother."

With that she was gone, walking into the back corridor, Roland heard a door open and shut behind her. He could feel the pain. It was palpable to him, emotions always were. the sympathy he felt soon led him to her table, resting on it he saw a bag of incense, and a holder. He lit a stick, focusing his sympathy through the flame's center, and then waving the flame out, it's smoke bore the emotion into the calming effects of magical relief. _ Only a touch of Mind, with a bit of comfort... I love this rote. _ Soon the living room felt more like home. Jessica came out and the smoke caught her, the mood lightened up, she relaxed noticeably. " This incense always makes me feel better.." She shot a curious look at Roland, " How did you know?" Roland smiled and held up the package, showing the name on the cover, he spoke it as the definitive answer, " It's 'Relaxing Embers' isn't it?" He grinned and headed for the door. " You're alright, yeah?"

She giggled, " Yes, I'm fine, I think I'm gonna take a nap before my first class." Roland nodded and opened the door for himself. " Awesome, then I will see you around, darling." she merely nodded and waved as he left, shutting the door behind him. He looked down at the mat he stood on and smirked, walking away with a shake of his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The night treated her terribly. That dream kept with her through her shower, breakfast, and the first cigarette of the day. Sophia looked at herself in the mirror. _ I look like I haven't slept in a year. _ she pulls at her lower eyelids and leaned over and splashed her face with water from the tap. She reached for a towel and dried her face, sighed and walked out, grabbing her keys.

She walked briskly to her car and stopped, looking at the motor cycle next to her vehicle. She looked about and there he stood. his tight jeans, threadbare, well worn and faded from the years hanging from the hips. he wore a fashionable button up shirt, which hung from his shoulder and his sculpted chest perfectly. He looked like a model, the dark hair, the green eyes which he hid when he slipped on the dark. wraparound shades. He grinned and nodded, then he sat on the bike, chuckling. Sophia blushed, in embarrassment. She had been staring unabashed. The rider pulled the bike back, turned the engine over and headed off, Sophia shook her head, and crawled into the driver's seat. As she turned on her car, her stomach gurgled. The queasy turn of hunger suck and only one thing hit her mind... " Denny's..."

Traffic didn't hinder her at all as she whipped through the roads heading out to the family restaurant. She looked at the time and smiled, lucky her, she had plenty of time to eat before she had to get to class today. within a few songs on the radio, she found herself pulling into parking lot and getting out of the vehicle, she moved off to the front door, around a rather large eyesore of an SUV.

And she stopped. Before her stood the same motorbike that was parked at her apartment complex. her heart soared into her throat to give room for the butterflies emerging from their chrysalis in her abdomen. _It can't be! _ She walked by it and entered through the door, the fragrance of the diner filled her nose invitingly.

Her eyes scanned for an empty booth or table, but alas there was nothing, and the hostess whisked her off the the counter, right next to the strange man from the apartment complex, and being a regular, her coffee was there without ordering. The man pushed the sugars next to her coffee.

" You know, I thought it was the man usually stalking the woman, I'm flattered." His baritone voice was warm to her ears and she felt her face blush a little. "Name's Roland, by the way."

She finally got the courage to look up into his face, her eyes caught his and the butteries went into a fit of flurried desperation trying to tear themselves out of her. " I.. I'm Sophia, Nice to meet you, I guess."

Roland gave her an incredulous eyebrow, then chuckled at the blush and the stare right into his eyes. " Only guess? By the look in your eyes, I would say that you are finding our meeting very pleasant. Even if it is awkward, wouldn't you say, Sophia?"

It took her a few moments to break away from that eye-lock. once it was, she could feel his yes on her while she put the creamer and two sugars into her coffee, and was stirring it. She heard him sigh and return to his menu and the last few drops of a soda in his glass as she made up her mind whether or not to continue speaking.

She grabbed a menu and felt brave, " So? What looks good to you, Roland?" He peered over to her from over the side of the menu and smirked, "You know? I haven't really thought about it a lot, yet. I am completely torn Between eating Breakfast, or whether to have a sandwich or heaven's forbid, a burger with some seasoned fries." he winked playfully, " I prefer to shatter any conventions I can manage to find, you know?"

Sophia sat there with her own smirk on her face, " Then You're no help to me at all, I guess." And she continued the pursuit of the craving's end which her mind refused to even consider didn't exist on the pages of the hallowed Denny's menu.

Roland set the menu down and smiled brightly as the waitress brought him a new glass full of soda and looked over at Sophia. " You know I think that you must try it, at least this once.. Break with tradition and come right to the dark side and have yourself something further in the menu. I promise, you'll have a good time with it, and even if you don't? You can always have the usual tomorrow, right?" With a wink, he turned the pages to the sandwiches and the dinners.

Sophia's eyes latched onto something and the stomach begged for it. She looked up and the waitress smiled, waiting. Sophia didn't even take a moment to reconsider, " I'll have the cheeseburger with onion rings? And can i get a coke?" Roland chuckled, " Make that two." the waitress took the menus and with a quick " Just a minute" they had their sodas and were laughing over the simple silliness of having dinner for breakfast.

" So, tell me Roland," Sophia inquired, "What do you do?" Roland sipped the soda out of a straw, which looked very juvenile considering the suit. She sat there watching the place, listening to Roland answer her questions and she found herself answering every question he could ask while they sat there, drinking their sodas and waiting on their unconventional breakfast.

Soon enough it arrived, and the conversation fell into the sounds of masticating bliss. Seasoned fries slowly disappeared from their plates and the rest vanished, filling their stomachs warmly. When finally they were finished Roland leaned back slurping the rest of his soda out of the bottom of the glass in front of him, then he spoke.

" So... What is your plan for the day? Work?"

Swallowing quickly and washing it all down with a quick sip, Sophia answered, " Well, actually no, I got to get to class in a little bit."

"Oh! A scholar! What is your major?" Roland grinned, and leaned in for the answer. Much to the embarrassment of Sophia, who simply sat there for a moment, her major was oddball and to really what she would ever consider to be noteworthy.

" Anthropology, Mostly dealing with languages, in particular, Sanskrit." Modestly spoken, Roland chuckled a little, reddening Sophia's cheeks. "What?"

" Oh, it's nothing, really, nothing to do with you, Sophia, it's just you don't meet many people with the discipline to sit through and learn a language that hasn't been really spoken for a good five hundred to a thousand years. Hell, even in India, they merely know it to translate things like the Karma Sutra and such."

Dejectedly, she slumped in the stool and shrugged. Roland saw this and quickly retraced his steps. " Oh, no, you don't understand, I think it's great, Really!" Roland grabbed her shoulder and rubbed it, hoping to return the life and humor back into his new companion. Seemingly, for a moment it looked like it would work. Sophia, though, stood and picking up her ticket walked for the Hostess behind the cash register, paid and left Roland sitting there, kicking himself for the lack of tact he possessed. It took him another soda before he got up himself, and left the restaurant.

Roland was forced to raise an eyebrow, leaning on his motorcycle was Sophia, arms crossed and sunglasses in place, an emotionless expression plastered on it as she looked him up and down. Roland put his wallet back into his back pocket and walked toward her.

"I thought you were going to class."

" I was, my keys are in the ignition and the doors are locked."

Roland smirked and tilted his head, " That's a predicament, you didn't think to go inside and use the phone?"

Her face darkened a little. Irritation spewed from her mouth as she bitterly replied,

" I have a phone, and I tried to call a locksmith, they say they can't get out here for a good hour, at least., alright? I don't know what I am going to do."

Roland nodded, his mind wrapped in thought for a moment before he finally moved to his bike, pulled out the spare helmet and held it to Sophia. " C'mon, I'll give you a lift."

She took a step back, " What?" She looked at the helmet like it had burst into flames. The look made Roland laugh, " What in the world is wrong with you? You wan tot get to school or what? I can get you there, you want to get there, and I got a spare brain bucket... Let's go, I know where the schools are, which one you at? Community, or the Biggun?"

She slowly took the helmet, " CCSN, The campus on Charleston." Roland nodded and put his helmet on, swinging his leg over the bike, and hitting the ignition. " Alright, get on grab tight and let's go." She obeyed quickly, looking down to make sure her feet got onto the pegs right as Roland backed the bike up smoothly before gunning it back into the flow of traffic, away from Denny's. Sophia took one last look at her shrinking car before putting her focus onto the man sitting in front of her, and the road that raced beneath her feet.

She'd ridden motorbikes before, her father and mother rode them all her life, the feeling was old hat, but still cave her a thrill, if it wasn't for the fact that the only motorbikes that had radios were those nasty car-on-two-wheel behemoths that the really lame ride, she'd probably take to them as well. The vibration of the engine the fluidity of the road's embrace on the wheels as the bike tilts in a turn, the noise of the wind as it takes hold of your body. Pure exhilaration, it always reminded her f her father, an old army vet from a war that wasn't, and battles that weren't there. He came back to spoiled fruit being tossed at him and a motorbike waiting. He couldn't understand what people wanted from him, she remembered from his stories.

HE didn't want to go, but he was an athlete in school, when he got out, the government called his number, and he served there until he was shot in the leg and they sent him back. At nineteen he went to work as a mechanic. Did all the crazy stuff the sixties were about and that he didn't want her to be about. Strange what age does to you, isn't it? He grew his hair long, lived in San Fransisco, was a party animal, according to mom. She would know, too. That's when they met. They lived together since the first day they met and they haven't left each other's side ever since.

Her mom spoke of working a magic spell to keep her daddy in check. Her dad just said he was too old to try and break in a new woman. " Why get a puppy, when the hounds mouth is still soft". Mother hated Dad's little quips. But they were inseparable, had a mess of kids, too. Most of them got crazy names, her oldest sister, Harmony was born nine months after Woodstock. Dad liked to call her his "Souvenir". All together Sophia had eight siblings. She was the youngest.

Her mind was pulled back from reminiscing by a jolt, a branch laid behind them, Roland had just wretched the bike around it at breakneck speed. Sophia scowled, trying to place how in the world he made that turn at the speed they were going, with a passenger. She simply shook her head and rested against Roland to escape the hot desert wind racing by. Before she knew it they were pulling to the parking lot in front of the building. Roland parked with little to no thought about it.

With that the engine was silenced, and in that silence, Sophia climbed off, removing the helmet and lowered it to the seat, looking at Roland who was removing his as well. " Where are you going?" Sophia was a little confused, it was a ride.. not an invite... But Roland smiled, " Hun, I got on old friend that works here, I figured, since I was here, you know, I'd stop by, see if the boy had lunch plans, or what have ya." He winked and shrugged, pulling out his ponytail and redoing it quickly before returning the dark shades to his nose, and stuffed the helmets into the saddlebags. " so, Sophia, mind if I walk you to class?"

Sophia looked the man over real fast. Just met him, but he acted like they were old friends, or more. The act was strange, more over, the attitude was easy to get lost in. something was different. Something was- " yeah, sure. C'mon" inviting.

Her class wasn't really that far away, only a flight of stairs and a coupe of doors away from the front entrance. Roland smiled as she entered the classroom promising her to be there when she got out, ow else was she going to go back and get her car? She accepted the help and was a little worried about what he wanted in return, but Roland seemed to be simply a kind man. Whether there was an ulterior motive or not, it didn't seem to really matter to her. What mattered was that he was willing to help and she could use it. Besides, it was fun riding on the motorcycle. She entered the classroom and scanned around, only the professor was there, sitting at the front desk, the room itself wasn't really a classroom like you'd have in a high school, it was a half moon, with rows of tables encircling it, each level raised a little higher and higher, much like a theater. An auditorium setup, if you will. Something that made Sophia chuckle inwardly when ever she stepped into these classrooms.

The instructor sat at his desk, reading a hefty book. He was younger than most of the instructors she has had in her time at the community college, but he was also one of her favorites, Professor Dupree taught philosophy here. His methods weren't what you would call orthodox. He constantly pushed the students to think more for themselves, to be their own philosophers. He looked up from his book and smiled. " Sophia! Attending class today? What a surprise! " He put his book down and stood with a warm grin, but before Sophia could respond, his cellphone rang and he snorted, " Excuse me, one moment.. "

She smirked and settled into her seat, pulling out her folder and a pen to take notes as the professor left the room, talking excitedly into his phone. This wait brought with it the erst of the student body attending this professor's class. A grand total of ten people. This, of course was the most advanced philosophy course offered at the College, and it seemed difficult to get the professor's permission to enter it. It meant, not only plenty of leeway with assignments, but a very tailored curriculum. The syllabus simply stated " notebook, pen and Open Mind." To this day that is all she needed.

" Guys!" the Professor shouted as he entered, " I have great news, you are free from listening to me babble for the day, I have something far more interesting for you. And dare I say it, much more entertaining." He paced in front of them with an inquisitive look smeared across his brow. " As you all know and have definitely devised, I believe that one must see things from many different views if we are to understand anything. " he smiled broadly " So, today is a test of your minds. A test of your imagination. Most of all it is a Test you will actually be graded upon."

"Today I have a friend that has shown up to visit, and since it comes right in time for the Lesson of the Day, I have asked him to come and speak to you all about perception. About reflection of ourselves and the interpretation less than ordinary. " Sophia looked at the door, her stomach alight once more with the butterflies of nausea, " So, students, I have the honor to present to you, Mister Roland Xavier. He walked to the door and opened it. To Sophia's regret, there he stood in the doorway, his clothes seemingly freshly ironed and sewn with him inside. His walk was drunkenly confident and his eyes seem to bear through each of the students one by one.


End file.
